


A Spot of Tea

by tablelamp



Category: Forever (TV 2014)
Genre: Caretaking, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Stomach Ache, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-21 08:47:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21072146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablelamp/pseuds/tablelamp
Summary: Abe has a stomachache, and Henry can't stop being a dad.





	A Spot of Tea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArgylePirateWD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgylePirateWD/gifts).

"It's just a stomachache. I feel fine," Abe protested, trying to push himself to his feet from the couch where Henry had left him.

"How old were you, Abraham, when you were last able to fool me about whether or not you were ill?" Henry asked, giving Abe his best 'I am still your father' look.

Abe sank back on the couch with a sigh. "Yeah, that's fair."

Henry allowed himself a smile. "Just sit there a moment and relax. I'm going to make you some ginger tea."

Abe closed his eyes and leaned back a bit further. "Mmm. Sounds good."

Henry had gradually, if begrudgingly, come round to electric kettles, with no small amount of encouragement from Abigail. In fact, Abigail had purchased the electric kettle Henry still used in his kitchen. He knew that at some point it would no longer be able to fulfill its purpose, but using it always brought Abigail to mind, and the reminder was very welcome. He peeled and sliced a bit of ginger root--for one cup of tea, he didn't need much--and steeped the slices in the hot water. When the tea smelled right, he removed the ginger from the water and carried the teacup and saucer in to Abe.

Abe opened his eyes, saw the teacup, and smiled. "Thanks, Pops." He took the cup and saucer from Henry and took a sip of the tea. "You know, there aren't that many things that make me feel six years old again, but this does."

Henry sat next to Abe. "My ginger tea will never reach the heights of your mother's."

Abe took a thoughtful sip. "I dunno. I think you've got it down pretty good."

Henry shrugged. "I've had time." He touched Abe's forehead to take his temperature. "You're not feverish."

"I told you it's only a stomachache," Abe protested, though they both knew that his protest was more for show than anything else.

"Even so," Henry said, taking the blanket from the back of the sofa and gently tucking it around Abe. "We can open a bit late this morning."

Abe gave him a skeptical look. "You're not worried about someone having an antiques emergency?"

"I'm worried about you," Henry said, trying to use lightness of tone to disguise how true the sentiment was.

If Abe couldn't fool Henry, Henry couldn't fool Abe either. "I'll be okay. Promise."

Henry nodded. "Of course you will. You've inherited my constitution." He knew Abe would take that as the joke it was meant to be.

Abe laughed. "No offense, but if I've inherited your constitution, will I be surprised!"

"There are worse things," Henry said, only half-joking.

Abe nodded, no doubt remembering a few of them. "Yeah."

"Drink your tea and rest." Henry tousled Abe's hair. "Would you like me to get you anything? One of those comic books you like?"

Abe almost choked on his tea. "How long has it been since you saw me read a comic book?"

The down side of being immortal was that recency was a relative concept. "I suppose it has been some time."

"I don't need anything out anywhere," Abe said, "but, uh."

Henry waited patiently.

"Well, you used to read to me when I was sick," Abe said.

Henry smiled. "What would you like to hear?"

"Something old-fashioned," Abe said. "Something you like."

"Old-fashioned is my speciality," Henry said, moving to the bookshelf and examining his options. He removed a book, holding it up for Abe's approval. "Will a Bronte sister do?"

"Of course," Abe said.

Henry sat, opening _Agnes Grey_. He'd always been partial to Anne Bronte's writings, and considered it unfair that she wasn't more widely read these days. "'All true histories contain instruction; though, in some, the treasure may be hard to find...'" He would read until Abe felt better, or until Abe fell asleep. Either outcome was agreeable to him.


End file.
